Between Him and Her
by Apple-chan
Summary: She could never be his. He couldn't protect her if he stayed. But he wasn't going to let him leave. JeannexLysergxMarco. [COMPLETED]
1. Part One: Departure

**  
Between Him and Her  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Summary: She could never be his. He couldn't protect her if he stayed. But..._he_ wasn't going to let him leave. JeannexLysergxMarco.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for issues and slight shounen ai, just to be safe. And warnings for the triangulation...er, triangle.  
  
Dedicated to **PrismaticMage** and **pyro-angel**, who are both responsible for converting me into a MarcoxLyserg fan--the last pairing I ever thought I'd end up liking. To Yui-chan and Yomi, hope you like this one.=)  
  
In case it wasn't obvious enough, Lyserg is 20 here, Jeanne is 16, and Marco is 33. 

-  
****

**Part One: Departure  
**  
  
Lyserg stared unemotionally at the door of his room, his heart heavy, his mind still pondering relentlessly upon the last words his precious lady had uttered to him, just before she retreated with painful, unmistakable finality to her haven that is the Iron Maiden.  
  
_"This is my destiny. No one can change it...not you, not Marco, nor I--not even if I wanted to. When I chose this path of sacrifice, years ago, I knew from the first moment what it entailed. I know how much of myself I have to give up to save everyone.  
  
"And I know, as well...I can never go back. I will bear this burden until I die."  
_  
And when she looked upon him afterwards, her eyes were full of pain, grief, and love...yet at the same time, they reflected a firmness, a strong resolve. And a farewell.  
  
She would not turn back. Not for herself, not for anyone, or anything...not even love. Even as she held both of his hands then, through her eyes, her words...and the sadness of her smile, he knew--and he felt--that his last hope to have her was no more.  
  
As he turned to fasten his second and final suitcase, he smiled bitterly at his reflection in the mirror. Right from the start, he knew he never had a chance with her. She could never belong to just one person, for she was Iron Maiden Jeanne--a prophet, a saint, a savior. She belonged to the WORLD. She belonged to everyone.  
  
She had sworn an oath, and bound herself within an unbreakable vow; and through this vow, she had promised herself--wholly and fully--to the highest, most supreme of all beings: God.  
  
And as for _him_...years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would protect her with his life. His wings would guard her from all sorts of harm, enabling her to save the world, to save all humans without any outside interference. He would serve her just as long as she wished to be served.  
  
A protector, an angel, the servant of the savior--those are the only things he would ever be to her, and nothing more.  
  
It was wrong of him to think, to even consider that there could ever be anything else...and yet, he did...and that was the greatest mistake he had ever made.  
  
Falling in love with her was a mistake.  
  
With a loud, frustrated sigh, he packed what remained of his things, stood up, and walked out the door.  
  
At the Church Hall, he ran his eyes gently, painstakingly all around the walls, the pillars, and the carvings of the sacred structure. There was a certain point in his life when he had began to consider this place home...but now, he was leaving again, never to return. Although she never told him, he knew it was what she would have wanted. There was nothing for him here anymore. He couldn't protect her the way he used to any longer. The circumstances, the changes in the two of them, and more importantly, _his_ feelings--they would only hinder him from doing what he was tasked.  
  
His gaze lingered most particularly at the center of the altar, where the hollow metal torture device known as the Iron Maiden was situated; and within its punishing prickling walls, the young woman he loved so dearly would forever be imprisoned.  
  
An odd constriction throbbed painfully from his throat, down to his chest, restricting his breathing. He clenched his fists at his sides and forced himself to look away, fervently reminding himself of what she had told him. This was her choice. This was what she thought would be best for everyone. This was a vow she could never break; a promise she had made to the Lord. She needed to do this to save everyone. To save HIM.  
  
_If this is my salvation,_ he thought bitterly, _then I'd rather not be saved_.  
  
He knew he couldn't stay here anymore. Being near her, yet unable to touch her, to see her as he wanted, and to LOVE her--it was killing him.  
  
With the remaining amount of strength he had, he tore his gaze from the accursed iron prison. Tightening his hold on his belongings, he turned on his heel and pushed open the magnificent double doors, closing them as quietly as he could manage behind him.  
  
-  
  
He found his blonde, bespectacled superior waiting for him at the foot of the stone path that led outside the church.  
  
Nearly a decade ago, he never would have had the courage to look at Marco the way he was looking at him now--straight in the eye, with not even an ounce of hesitation, trepidation or terror coming over him. A long time ago, he would have needed to crane his neck just to gaze at Marco's face. Now, it wasn't necessary, for over the years, as his mind grew in knowledge and his heart learned how to love...physically, he had grown as well. Currently, he was roughly the same height as the blonde man, even though Marco was a decade and three years older than him.  
  
If the man had treated him like a child previously, now, the two of them were equal...in many ways.  
  
Marco's eyes briefly regarded the suitcases Lyserg was carrying before looking up, scrutinizing the green-haired young man with that same penetrating gaze Lyserg had been used to for the past eight years.  
  
However, something about Marco's gaze has changed; for beneath that look which seemed to probe into one's whole being, a hint of sadness, concern, and more importantly, _care_...was reflected in the blonde's eyes.  
  
In the eight years that had passed, just as things between him and Jeanne had changed, something similar happened between him and Marco. Similar, yet different.  
  
With a small, barely audible sigh, Lyserg bowed his head and walked down the stone path, surveying the blonde at the corner of his eye, yet pointedly ignoring him. If there was one person in this whole place who would be able to stop him from leaving, despite what he wanted to do--it would be Marco.  
  
He reached the step in front of the blonde, pausing abruptly, for the way was blocked. He reluctantly raised his head and gazed at Marco, eye to eye, without blinking.  
  
Marco's face betrayed no emotion. "You are not leaving." He said quietly, sternly.  
  
"Yes. I am." Lyserg insisted in a firm voice. "I can't stay here anymore. Not after--" he broke off, and shook his head. "...I have to go," he gave Marco a pleading look, and pushed him gently aside, attempting to pass through...but the man pulled him forcefully by the shoulder.  
  
"_Don't_." Marco's voice held the briefest hints of a request. "...Please."  
  
He shook his head vehemently. "I can't. For everyone's sake, I really should go--"  
  
"_Why?_" Marco said in a demanding tone.   
  
"Because this is the best thing. For all of us. For the rest of the world." He stated flatly.  
  
"You promised to protect her. WE promised to protect her. Are you saying you want to BREAK that promise?!?"  
  
"I am NOT breaking any promises!" Lyserg retorted.  
  
"Then what are you DOING?"  
  
"Protecting her!"  
  
"By leaving? HOW?!?"  
  
"Don't you understand?" Lyserg asked impatiently. "THIS is the only way I can protect her. From MYSELF," he burst out. "If I stay here any longer, I'll only be hurting her, and I can't do that anymore!"  
  
The briefest wave of pain washed over Marco's features and left as quickly as it came. "And just for that...you're leaving?"  
  
"Yes." He answered with conviction.  
  
Marco didn't speak after this, but merely stared at him. An odd, inexplicable expression was reflected in his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry," Lyserg whispered fleetingly as the blonde finally moved to let him pass. He knew Marco was still looking at him; and as he took several more steps towards the main road, he silently wondered why his feet felt so heavy, like they were glued to the cemented pathway. He had resolved to himself that he would leave--if not for the sake of Jeanne, _or_ himself--then at least, for the sake of humanity.  
  
However, he had forgotten one very important detail--one very important _person_.  
  
Marco. Try as he might, Lyserg knew he couldn't leave Marco just like that. Whether he insists upon it nor not, Marco _deserved_ an explanation...a better explanation than the one he had given.  
  
Lyserg didn't know if he would be able to explain. This was something between him and Jeanne. Marco didn't need to know anything. He was way out of the subject.  
  
_...Wasn't he?_  
  
Somehow, for the length of the that he'd known him, Lyserg couldn't quite remember when it was that he had started to regard Marco as...something more than a comrade, a friend, a companion. Perhaps it was during that time when he had started to regard Jeanne not just merely as the savior he had to protect, but....as someone he could be with, and someone he could love.  
  
Nevertheless, there were unmistakable differences between the two that cannot be denied. More than the natural physical and age difference, between them, the easiest to reach was Marco, because he, like Lyserg, treaded on solid ground; whereas Jeanne--she was of Heaven, and because of that, she and Lyserg would forever remain at the opposite ends of the world. They would forever be separated by a great dividing distance. And although Heaven can touch Earth...it can only reach so far, so much, and only for so long. There is no permanence...except for the painfully clear fact that they can never be together.  
  
Still, he didn't want to turn to Marco, if only for the reason that he couldn't be with Jeanne, and Marco was the only person who can provide him even a small semblance of comfort. No matter how close they are, and...whatever Marco feels for him, if there is any...it just wouldn't be fair. He didn't want to hurt Marco. There was enough pain in the world to last everyone a lifetime; there shouldn't be any more.  
  
"...Goodbye," Lyserg whispered, turning his head slightly one final time to gaze at Marco, trying his best to remember every vivid detail about the man who was his leader, his head, his advisor, his mentor, his comrade, and later--his very close friend--and engraving them into his heart. He would never forget. He could _never_ forget. There was too much between them that can never be erased. Too many words exchanged. Too many memories made. Too much sadness, shared...  
  
Nothing can be forgotten. Everything will be remembered.  
  
He saw Marco clenching his fists at his sides, and he knew--the man wanted to stop him from leaving. But in the end...the determined look in his eyes, and the finality in his greeting told Marco all he needed to know. With a weak, resigned sigh, the blonde shook his head, turned around and walked back towards the Church.  
  
Lyserg caught the barest hints of a farewell from the man he had grown to know and care about for the past eight years. Replacing his hat on his head, he pivoted and walked down the path to leave, never to return again.

-

TSUZUKU.

-

**Notes: **  
  
Yes, it doesn't have much of a point yet. And it's kind of weird. But well, _I'm_ weird, so... **  
**  
Credit for the title goes to the brilliant mind of the brilliant person known as **da-mouse**. Nezumi-chan, thank you for being so brilliant. :P  
  
This fic was mostly inspired by the SKRP Community at LiveJournal. For details on that, have a look at my profile. The link to the journal community is there.  
  
Lastly, comments/suggestions/criticism/reactions/etc are always welcome. If you intend to flame me, please make sure to observe proper punctuation, grammar, and correct spelling. If you don't, I'm just going to ignore you. Thanks.  
  
_UP NEXT:_ **Part Two: Redemption** - Marco's thoughts and feelings...and his resolve. 


	2. Part Two: Redemption

**  
Between Him and Her  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Summary: She could never be his. He couldn't protect her if he stayed. But..._he_ wasn't going to let him leave. JeannexLysergxMarco.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for issues and slight shounen-ai.  
  
Still dedicated to **Yui-chan** and **Yomi**.=)  
  
Events take place around a month or so after "Departure."  
  
-  
  
**Part Two: Redemption  
**  
  
Marco looked up at the clear blue sky as he stood, waiting in front of a structure so foreign, yet at the same time--so familiar to him.  
  
To most people, the enormous clock tower served as a landmark, a location point which told them where they are, and what time it is. For Marco, though, it served as a painful, poignant reminder of that certain someone he once knew...a young, feeble boy he had met, years ago. A boy, so full of innocence and naiveté. A boy who had seen far too much horror, and had experienced far too much sadness and pain even though he had only lived for a mere twelve years. Beyond everything, though, beyond all that he had encountered, all the pain he had gone through, and all the people he had loved and lost...still, the boy knew practically next to nothing about the world.  
  
Apart from the similarities in life experiences and the orders that he had received from Iron Maiden Jeanne, there was a certain something in the young boy which, back then, had compelled Marco to get to know him, approach him, and teach him all he needed to know. Everything about the ways of the world, about justice, life, loyalty...and love.  
  
But circumstances neither of them were able to predict happened. Not even their leader could do anything to stop it, and through it all, in the midst of all the trials, all the gains as well as the losses, and all the tears that were shed for the lives that were lost as the battle to uphold what's right and what's fair and just was fought...-this- man who had thought he could teach this little boy everything--he was the who had ended up being taught; and by no less than the same person whom he thought had so many things to learn--the little boy.  
  
That man was still a man, because that man was Marco. And the boy...he was a man now, as well--Lyserg. Now, they were equal, not merely in stature or demeanor, but in the ways that really matter. Age was an irrelevant matter, not if one speaks of two people who have ventured into the same world and experienced most of the same things together--the essential things.   
  
Him and Lyserg, they were two of a kind. They were equal--in the most ultimate sense of the word.  
  
And that was why he was here. He needed to see Lyserg, and to know why he left, because up to now, despite all the explanations the heavens above had given him through the very lips of Iron Maiden Jeanne, and despite his firmness of heart and mind which commanded his whole being that he really didn't need an explanation, he just had to _know_. He needed-no, he _wanted_ to understand. He wanted Lyserg to state the reasons, the circumstances--everything surrounding his abrupt departure from the convent he had grown up in, and the only family he had ever known ever since his parents were taken away from him. He wanted Lyserg to make him see what had really compelled him to leave. Granted, Marco _knew_...but he was also aware: Jeanne wasn't the only reason Lyserg left. _He_ was.  
  
And beyond all that...if there really was no more hope of ever seeing him come back to the place he had called home, at the very least, Marco wanted to be able to say a proper goodbye to him. Lyserg was his friend, and the other half of the only family he really had. And his departure from the convent was somehow incomplete where Marco was concerned, and he wanted to at least gain that completion by seeing him...if only for one final time.  
  
And to do one other thing.  
  
Iron Maiden Jeanne, beyond all her youth, beauty, and the naiveté that she exuded with her whole being--was still as firm as steel inside and out. She wasn't the former X-laws leader for nothing, and she wasn't the prophet of salvation for nothing. Although she didn't possess the empathic abilities of Asakura Hao, the wisdom and perception that she had as the lady of salvation were enough to sense the hurt, the longing and the yearning that Marco had been feeling deep within him because of the loss of the green-haired young Englishman.  
  
It _was_ for the best that Lyserg stay as far away as possible from the convent and from Jeanne, Marco knew that, and more importantly, _Jeanne_ herself knew that. It was less painful that way for the both of them. Right after she had bid him goodbye, she and Lyserg had formed a pact, an unspoken understanding that for the sake of everything, and everyone--that they needed to stay as far away from each other as possible.  
  
However, they had not taken into account how Marco would feel about it.  
  
Over the years that had passed, as Lyserg grew up in their midst, Marco had been shunned into the back on his own accord. He had been reduced from being the second-in-command of the X-laws to a mere guardian of two youths, but it had been his own choice. When the final battle had been fought and won, and when everything had ended, he was contented to watch from afar as two children grew up in front of his very eyes. He had learned to love them both much to the point that he cared about no one and nothing--not even himself. It was them, _and_ ONLY them.  
  
The only difference? From the very beginning, he had revered Jeanne, put her in a pedestal and placed her high above him; whereas Lyserg...he had always been just _there_, right in front of him, never ascending, never descending. Just pure and perfectly straight. If there had been a road and Jeanne and Lyserg would pass through it, Jeanne would go up straight to the path of heaven, and Lyserg would go straight across the path...leading to _him_.  
  
Perhaps it was his own fault that Lyserg had not thought of how he would feel with the departure...or perhaps the young man was only trying to eclipse him from further pain and suffering by leaving him just like that...or perhaps it was a little of both...  
  
Or, perhaps...Lyserg wanted him to come.  
  
Marco sighed. It would do him no good to assume such things. Lyserg's heart belonged fully and completely to Jeanne..._he_ wasn't anywhere in the picture. He had been content to watch them from afar--to watch _Lyserg_ from afar, and see him gaze worshipfully, fondly, and lovingly at the Maiden.  
  
_"...And if I remember correctly, _you_ were doing the same thing. Watching him from afar. And loving him, even though there was always that thought in your mind that he would never reciprocate your feelings. But Marco, you and I both know...he is not like that. He _does_ love you...perhaps not yet in the way that you wish he would, but it is a wonderful beginning nevertheless." Jeanne gave a faint, sad smile. "...And _you_ know, and _I_ know, and I know that _he_ knows: if he could have chosen to love anyone right from the start, it should have been you, because with you, he would get the happiness that I will never be able to give him. The happiness that I can _never_ give him."  
_  
He heaved a sigh as he remembered Jeanne's words to him, just before he left. More than anything, _that_ was what made him gather up his resolve to see Lyserg. He wanted to know...he wanted to see if there was a flicker of a chance that what Jeanne had told him was right. He wanted to make sure that Lyserg wasn't foregoing the happiness that he could have just because of his fears.  
  
_"His love for me...it's different from what he feels for you, but they have their similarities." A soft sigh. "...He's refusing it, and you and I both know why. He doesn't want to hurt you. He cares so much. For me. For you. That's why he's pushing it away. That is why he is, in not so many words, pushing _you_ away as well. He...doesn't think he deserves what you feel for him."  
_  
_But he does_, Marco thought to himself. _He deserves everything, because I didn't choose for this to happen...it just did. And I can never undo what my heart feels._  
  
_"Everyone deserves equal happiness...you and him are no exception."_ This was Jeanne's final statement before she had retreated back to the Iron Maiden, just before he left.  
  
_Happiness, huh?_ Marco thought wryly, once again glancing up at the immense clock tower in front of him. The Big Ben. London.  
  
Lyserg's hometown.  
  
Clenching his hands at his sides, Marco took a deep breath and walked with newfound resolve, and strength.  
  
_...No matter what happens, I will find you, Lyserg. And I will take you home.  
_  
_Everyone deserves happiness. Everyone.  
_  
_Even us.  
_  
  
TSUZUKU.  
  
**  
Notes:   
**  
Ehm...ooc-ness with respect to Marco's character here is purely unintentional yet somehow unavoidable. And for that, I apologize.  
  
As usual, comments/suggestions/criticisms/reactions/etc are always welcome.   
  
_UP NEXT_: **Part Three: Deliverance** - Jeanne's thoughts and feelings...and the pain of someone who can never love, and can never be loved.


	3. Part Three: Deliverance

**  
Between Him and Her  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Summary: She could never be his. He couldn't protect her if he stayed. But..._he_ wasn't going to let him leave. JeannexLysergxMarco.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for issues and slight shounen-ai.  
  
The dedication stays...for Yui-chan and Yomi. Second to the last part. Hope you like it.=)  
  
-  
  
**Part Three: Deliverance  
**  
  
Iron Maiden Jeanne looked up to the clear blue sky, and smiled at the Heavens.  
  
Her lips parted slightly, and she began to utter a soft, silent prayer.  
  
_...Lord, thank You for your gift of peaceful solitude, and rest.  
  
Thank You for giving me the honor of serving You, and your creation...  
  
Thank You for allowing me to do the mission You have set for me in this world...and thank You for providing me with the strength and the will to do as you have asked.  
  
For all those instances when I felt my body giving way, and for all those times when I had come so close to giving up...thank You for helping me stand, and for bestowing me with the power to endure everything as much as I can.  
  
And most of all...  
_  
She closed her eyes then, sighing softly at the memory of all her comrades, her angels.  
  
_Thank You for giving me...all of them.  
  
_Her breath hitched slightly as she remembered all of them...most of them long gone, but never forgotten.  
  
Most of them, save for two--Marco, and Lyserg.  
  
_Lyserg...  
_  
Something strong and painful clenched inside her chest, making her crumple down on the ground. She placed her hands over her heart, and drew in a shaky breath, in an effort to ease the pain that was tormenting her, tearing her apart inside at the mere thought of him.  
  
She opened her eyes then, and felt something warm and wet trickle down her cheek. Then another. And then, another.  
  
And then, more...until she was finally crying, all the anguish, the hurting...and all the anger and sadness she had welled up deep inside of her bursting out like a dam, flooding the world like a strong thunderstorm.  
  
But...  
  
...She had no right to cry. She had no right to feel pain, not over this. She had no right to sadness, not over this. She had no right to be angry...not at Lyserg, not at Marco...not over this.  
  
None of this was Marco's fault. And certainly, none of this was Lyserg's fault, either...  
  
Sometimes, she wondered if maybe, just maybe...she was responsible for this all. Sometimes, she blamed herself for everything that happened. She blamed herself for Lyserg's pain, and his departure. She blamed herself for hurting him. She blamed herself for Marco's pain--for her sake, as well as for Lyserg's.   
  
And...she blamed herself for all the hurting that Marco was suffering because of this. Because of Lyserg. Because of _her_.  
  
Everything...was her fault, that much might be a certainty.  
  
That was why she had asked Marco to go...to search for Lyserg, no matter where he may be. To ask him to come back, even if he didn't want to. To tell him that, even if he was not allowed to love _her_, then...he could at least let himself love someone else, and be loved in return. With all his kindness, his virtues, and his wonderful selfless nature...he deserved that much. He deserved happiness...happiness that Jeanne could never give him. And the love that she could never give him.  
  
He deserved Marco.   
  
And Marco, for all that he has done, for being everything that he was, that he is, and everything that he will soon be--he deserved no less, for sure. He deserved to be granted that something that he has chosen to deny himself of, for her sake, and for Lyserg's. He could have all that happiness, because he had a right to it. He deserved all the love that Lyserg can provide him...because it had always, _always_ been his from the very beginning.  
  
As for her...  
  
_This_ was her fate.  
  
She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that...this was the life she would lead, from childhood, until her death. Nothing would ever change. There was nothing she could decide on her own. Everything that she did, and everything that she felt...they were all preconditioned.  
  
She had chosen this life, knowing what it entailed. She knew what was expected of her. She knew what she must do. She knew what her responsibilities were.  
  
And most of all...she knew what she can, and can_not_ do. By treading the path webbed with all the sufferings, sins, sadness and anguish of mankind...by being Iron Maiden Jeanne, she had to give up everything. In her heart, there can be nothing but pure service, sacrifice and love--for the whole humankind, not just for one person. By choosing this life, she had foregone that right. She cannot love anyone. She could not choose to love just a single individual, for to do that would mean depriving all of humanity the chance for salvation.  
  
And she knew...if she were to choose between loving only one and making everyone suffer for it, as opposed to loving the whole of mankind at the price of the suffering of one individual--she would choose the latter.  
  
She--like Jesus and all the other saviors before her--belonged to the whole of humanity.  
  
And Lyserg--he deserved someone who would love him in return. It wasn't fair to him, to suffer like that on account of her. She could never return his feelings, not like that. Not in the way he wanted it to.  
  
But...it wasn't because she didn't want it.  
  
For all those years that had passed, she had tried so much to keep as much of a distance between the two of them as possible. She had tried to stay on one side, and him, on the other. She tried so hard not to get too close...because she knew what would be the result if that happens.  
  
And yet...somehow, all the circumstances, everything that occurred--they came about so suddenly, and so naturally that neither she nor Lyserg were able to realize that it was actually taking place.  
  
The feelings came...as subtle as the growing of the grass, and as beautiful--and as inevitable--as the rising of the sun, and the blooming of the flowers.  
  
It was her fate to live a life of sacrifice. It was her fate never to be able to love, or be loved by a single man.  
  
But still...she did anyway.  
  
If it was her fate to live this life, chances are--it might have been Lyserg's fate to fall in love with her, and--bitter though it may be--to never get that love reciprocated.  
  
And chances are...it was her fate to fall in love with him as well...but the sad, hard truth is that he would never find out.  
  
_...He can never really know...how much I love him.  
_  
She had no right to love him, after all.  
  
_No matter how much it hurts me, I can never tell him.  
_  
_Never.  
_  
Taking a deep breath, she daintily wiped the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. Iron Maiden Jeanne did not cry. Iron Maiden Jeanne had _no_ right to cry, not for something like this.  
  
She looked up to the sky again, and resumed her prayer.  
  
_Lord...if I could ask one thing from You, right here, right now...if You can grant me this one wish, I will be content, and I shall never ask for anything again.  
_  
She bit her lip, a lone tear escaping her eye.  
  
_Please...make me forget.  
_  
_Help me find the strength to let him go completely...to give him the freedom, because I know, as long as I have this... _she held her palm to her heart,_ as long as I feel this...he can never truly be happy.  
_  
_He doesn't need to suffer because of this. None of this is his fault.  
  
Everything...is mine.  
  
If I must give up something just to forget this...to forget him, I will.  
  
Even if it means I have to give up my life, I will.  
  
If taking away my life would mean giving him back his happiness...then, let it be done.  
  
If that is the punishment I deserve for loving him...I accept it wholeheartedly.  
  
And, if that's the only way...if there's no other way for me to forget, then...I accept.  
  
My life is yours, Lord.   
  
Now, and forever.  
_  
With that, Iron Maiden Jeanne bowed her head, did the sign of the cross, and stood up gracefully from the pavement. With one final deep breath, and a last glance at the sky, she set her gaze at the stone path leading outwards from the Church. This was where she had last spoken to Marco. _This_ was where she had last seen him, right before he left to redeem that which is most precious to him.  
  
Right before he left to claim _him_--him, whose love was rightfully his, and not Jeanne's. Lyserg.  
  
She turned around then, and walked back inside the Church, back to the haven that she had long ago resigned herself to. The Iron Maiden.  
  
She was the savior of the world, and forever and always, she would remain...  
  
-  
  
"Jeanne-sama," Lyserg whispered as he kneeled in front of the altar, bowing his head at his superior, at the lady that he loved more than life itself. He fleetingly glanced at the man beside him--his companion, his friend, his confidante--and the one person who has brought back the heart and happiness in his life, more than he had ever thought possible--Marco.  
  
The blonde, bespectacled man gave him a warm, reassuring smile, before he himself bowed his head and turned his attention back to the Iron Maiden. "Jeanne-sama...I've found him."  
  
"...Thank you, Marco." Jeanne's quiet, slightly shaky voice echoed from inside the metallic contraption. "Welcome back, Lyserg." When she uttered his name, her voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
"I...I'm sorry for leaving, Jeanne-sama," Lyserg raised his head, trying to imagine that he was talking here, face-to-face with the maiden herself, and not with the metal facade she resides in. "Never again, I promise," he vowed. Beside him, Marco's hand reached out to squeeze his shoulder, and he managed a faint smile of gratitude.  
  
Silence reigned across the whole church as he awaited Jeanne's answer. For a few moments, only the occasional ticking of the clock, both men's even breathing...and Jeanne's quiet, barely audible sighs were heard.  
  
Finally, she spoke. "...I know, Lyserg," her voice was still shaky, and soft. "I know."  
  
"Thank you for asking Marco to get me," Lyserg smiled this time--a genuine, happy smile that conveyed volumes. "Thank you...for everything."  
  
"You are welcome..." Jeanne answered. She couldn't speak anymore after that. Not when her tears were falling. Not when it was hurting her so much, to see him...  
  
Yet...he would never know...  
  
"I'll help you with your luggage," Marco said quietly, placing an arm on Lyserg's shoulder and motioning for him to stand up. "Jeanne-sama, if you'll excuse us..." He bowed his head respectfully before turning to Lyserg expectantly.  
  
Lyserg nodded, and stood up to follow Marco. Together, the two of them walked across the hallways to head up to the path leading to the rooms.   
  
As he reached the back, Lyserg paused for a moment, his eyes reflecting a hint of sadness as he glanced at the Iron Maiden. "Jeanne-sama..." he whispered quietly. "Thank you, and..." his voice trailed off at that. But the words he could not utter echoed in the silence.  
  
_...I will always love you.   
  
Always._  
  
And with that, he hastily picked up his pace to catch up with Marco, who was waiting for him.  
  
-  
  
As Jeanne watched the man she loved--together with that one person who deserved his love--walk away from her, and finally, disappear from her line of sight, her tears flowed freely. She knew she had wept her heart dry, and still...she continued to cry.  
  
_He will never know. I will keep this a secret until my death.  
_  
She took a deep breath, a faint resigned smile hovering on her lips.  
  
_Death.  
_  
She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.  
  
_As it is Your wish...then it shall be. Your will be done, my Lord.  
  
My life is...forever Yours.  
_  
The thorns tightened around her body, and as her skin prickled and bled, so was humanity purged from all its sins.  
  
_I love you, Lyserg.  
  
I love you...and goodbye.  
  
_-  
  
TSUZUKU.  
  
-  
  
**Notes:  
**  
Yeah, that was weird...as always.xD  
  
And yeah...I guess I couldn't help but incorporate some religious insights here. I think it's the Catholic-raised girl in me speaking.=)  
  
And as always, comments/suggestions/criticisms/reactions/etc are always welcome.   
  
_UP NEXT_: **Final Part: Repose** - When all else fails, only one thing remains to stop all the hurting. 


	4. Part Four: Repose

**Between Him and Her**

**By Apple-chan**

**Final Part - Repose**

Warnings: For death. But then again if you've read this far, you should know that. :D

* * *

I was the one who found her in that state. 

All those bruises, the wounds, the cuts...everything from the Iron Maiden. She had been drained of blood, of power, of _life..._almost completely.

At that time, all I could think of was how to save her...if I even could. But when I came to her, it was already far, far too late.

I could not save her.

I remember her from the later part of my childhood, my adolescence, and...she had seemed so powerful, so invincible, so above death that I didn't think it could ever happen.

She had never been a normal human being. In my eyes, she had been beyond human—a goddess of sorts, to put it bluntly. Even as the years passed, even as I loved her, the thought that I could never have her was always in my mind.

I knew we could never happen, her and me. It was impossible...for I was only human and she...she was divine. And humans, as much as they try, can never touch divinity, because it was forbidden. _Taboo_. You cannot fall in love with the one who created you—the one who made you who you are now. And in a way, she had made me into what I am now.

All the things that I had come to believe came crashing down on me at the instant that I saw her. Or rather, what _remained_ of her. The last of her life had been completely drained by that cursed sarcophagus...her haven, her mission, her sacrifice, her _life_...

Her murderer.

How could it have happened? Even now, as I watched the roaring blaze in front of me, as I watched the flames incinerate the last remaining memory of what was now the former X-Laws, the former Iron Maiden Jeanne, the savior who was no more—I could not make sense of it.

The principles that we have fought for, the battles that we have won and lost, and all the lives of the ones we love that were taken from us...the cruelty of fate, of destiny, of _life_—that was all it was. None of us were ever meant to be saved. Everyone existed only to suffer on, and on and on...

I used to believe in salvation. As a child who had lost both parents, a child who only wanted to find his way in the world, I had always believed in it. Even unconsciously, I suppose, for even if I could not voice out the word, it had always been in my mind. It was the only thing I had ever wanted.

With finding her, I had thought my hopes and wishes, and my prayers have been answered. The comrades that I had found became family, while she...she had been the one up there, at the summit of my dreams, the pedestal inside my heart. The savior, the divine messiah who would cast away all my sins, take me into her arms and tell me that it's all right, there's nothing to be afraid of now, you're safe, safe, here with me...

When it was that things had taken a turn, I could not remember, but they did. What had happened was a stupid thing, I know...but no one could have blamed me. I couldn't have stopped it. The ring of fate, the course of nature, and more importantly, my feelings...

If I could have realized it then, perhaps everything would have been different. Perhaps I could have saved her, and myself. I could have saved both of us this pain, this..._suffering_ that fate had meant for us to live and die with. If I had been brave enough to defy fate, to go against the destiny that had been preconceived for us, for _her_...

Everything I did, right from the very start, was wrong. Placing her on a pedestal, making her the goddess of my world was the first mistake that I had ever made. For she _wasn't_, she wasn't a goddess at all. She was, like me, only human.

Loving her as a human, as a man loves a woman, wasn't a mistake all along. From the earliest parts of my life I had suffered, and watched the people around me suffer...loving her wasn't selfishness. From the very beginning, I _could_ love her, and she in turn could love and save the world at the same time. Loving her wasn't taboo; it wasn't a sin, it wasn't forbidden—it was my _right_, my privilege.

Loving her had been the first step to my own salvation...and if I could have known it then...

She could be wrong sometimes. In my eyes, Iron Maiden Jeanne may have been something of a savior, but she certainly hadn't been perfect, I realize that now. She wasn't invincible, she wasn't beyond death, and her power...her power could only do so much. It had its limits, just like everything else.

She was human, just like Marco, just like me.

But that was not the most painful thing.

It was not that she was human—for I could accept that. I was _ready_ for that, because somehow...a part of me had been aware of that from the very beginning. Her humanity was as clear and as plain as day, but I had chosen to ignore it because for me, it hadn't been that important.

When I held her in my arms, just before she had taken her last breath..._that_ was the most painful thing.

_"I'm sorry, Lyserg..."_

_"...I lied..."_

Right then and there, I wanted to die with her.

_"I love you..."_

_"...goodbye..."_

That was the last, and most painful evidence of her humanity.

Everything she had said before, all the reasons she had given me as to why I should not allow myself to love her had become meaningless, right then and there. Why did there have to be anyone else, when it could have been her? Why did I need to throw away my feelings, when I could have been satisfied with loving her from afar?

_It wasn't selfishness._ That's what I keep telling myself, over and over. Even as I loved her, she could still belong to the world. Even as she loved me, she could still love the world at the same time. There was no more need for sacrifices. There was no more need for suffering. What she had gone through for most of her life—for _all_ of her life—they were enough. The twenty years of suffering that she had gone through—the twenty years of complete and boundless self-sacrifice and service that she had given to the world—_that_ was enough. She didn't need to give more. She didn't _have_ to give any more.

Loving me was _not _a sin. We were both human. It was bound to happen, just as everything natural comes to pass, like the rising of the sun, or the changing of the seasons, or lowering of tides...

How could she have done all this? How, and why..._why_, when things could have been different. If only she had chosen to love me, openly, freely...

That _has _to be another human thing—the freedom of choice. She loved me, yes...but by choosing not to tell me her real feelings, by letting me go, she had proven once again that she was human.

But the reason? No matter how much I think about it, I could not know, could _not_ make sense of it. Why she had chosen that path. Fate had no control over this now. She could have. She could have loved me. She _could have_.

But she had chosen death. Of all the choices that she could have made, it was _death_...

Perhaps I would never understand why. Maybe I was never meant to understand.

Maybe this was something divine—something that was beyond my human comprehension could take.

Maybe she was—_is_—in fact, a goddess after all.

Now, it's almost evening and it has started to rain. And the flames that we—_I_—had lit is almost completely out. Everything has turned to ashes—the church, the sarcophagus, the body of Iron Maiden Jeanne...

_It was what she had wanted_. That's what I keep telling myself, up to now. To be able to begin my life anew, I had to erase every last, every little thing that would remind me of her. Everything had to die along with her.

I clenched my fists tightly and looked up at the sky. The rain fell on my face, splattering, making me wet, but I did not care. Somehow, I was still hoping..._hoping_ for all eternity that I would get the answer that I seek. If she was somewhere out there, listening to the plea, the cry of my heart...she would reply.

But I heard nothing. She was dead, and there was nothing more.

A hand clasped my shoulder. Some part of me knew that it was Marco, and automatically my body pivoted, turned away from the ashes of what had once been my sanctuary...my life, my salvation. My _love_.

There was nothing there now.

_...Goodbye..._

I froze. Halted, stopped in my tracks. Turned, and looked back towards the remains of the Church...and Jeanne.

A passing breeze on my ear, and the scent of flowers. The scent that I had come to know and love. Her scent.

_I'm sorry..._

Only a silhouette, but it was there.

_She_ was there.

-END-

**

* * *

Notes: **

I'm sorry, Marco fans. I can't explain this ending, except that I am and will always be a true blue LysergxJeanne fan. So even if Jeanne is dead here...well, you know. :D

And yes, I _am_ back. Hopefully I can write the rest of **Promenade** now. Having my own computer is convenient, but my internet access is still erratic. But I am on a break now, so I'm really hoping that I can write. It might take a while, since I have to go over the story _again_ and try to remember what's supposed to happen next (since stupid me forgot my fic notes back home in Manila). Anyway, keep posted!

As always, reviews, comments, criticisms and all you can dish out on me are very much appreciated.:D


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